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“Your reaction when Marty mentioned the agency specialises in working with kids in trouble.

“A colleague in Sydney recommended it.”

“What are they doing for you?” Hamish held his breath, waiting for her answer.

“Putting out the word through their contacts across the islands.” She abandoned her earlier wariness in a rush. “Letting Sophie know how I can be contacted.”

His immediate attraction to Lela had disturbed Hamish, not only because technically she was his employer’s daughter and covered by the same rules as his other clients, but because, since Olivia’s murder by the estranged husband of a client of Hamish’s, he’d refused to allow space in his life for romantic entanglement. Earning Lela’s trust was more exquisite than the first bite of the Kannoli, awakening senses frozen in time. “When were you going to tell me?”

“I’m not sure I was.” She was underestimating herself.

“And now?”

“How is now different?” She steepled her hands before her mouth.To silence herself?

“You know how. Batting your eyelashes might distract some of your colleagues, but it won’t mislead me into thinking you’re stupid.” The punch she packed was undeniable—woman plus warrior. Discovering he wasn’t immune was a shock to his ordered existence. “In simple terms—the charity you visited this morning vouched for Marty and indirectly vouched for you. Just as Marty vouched for me. You want Marty’s information, and I want whatever you get from the charity.”

“You won’t share if I don’t?” She was a cool negotiator.

Who knew negotiating with Ms. Lela Vella, merchant banker, would be such a turn-on?Hamish toasted her with his glass.

“Are you calling my bluff, MacGregor?” Her eyes narrowed.

“Time to stop playing games. You know who I am, what I do. I’ve accepted your father’s contract because Sophie is vulnerable, but that doesn’t mean I follow orders blindly. I intend to find her.”

“So do I.”

“Then I’d say we’re working together.” He sat back in his seat.

“For the short term.”

“That’s good enough for now. By the way, my name is Hamish.”

“I’m Lela.” She stuck out a hand. “But I don’t mind Miranda—on occasion.” Her dimple was the invitation to be friends.

* * *

AFULL MOON HUNG LOWover Marsamxett Harbour. Its soft light surrounded them, settling like an invisible cloak across Lela’s shoulders. They strolled down Great Siege Road towards the hotel. His arm occasionally brushed against hers, an escalating torment. Suspense and excitement, a tantalising taste of what could be if they were two people who’d been introduced by a friend. Two people who had the freedom to explore each other. If she was a woman who knew how to tell a man she admired his work, liked him, and—to her surprise—was deliciously attracted to him.

Such wayward thoughts for a woman in Malta on a mission. Lela’s total focus should be on finding Sophie. Just as every plan she’d made since Sophie joined the Vella household had factored in its impact on Sophie. Lela’s current plan was to move into an apartment after Sophie’s eighteenth birthday. Not far from home, but far enough, her promise to herself and Mari fulfilled. There’d been no chance to tell Sophie before her flight, that Lela had started to make plans for herself. Now the magic of the moonlit stroll with Hamish anticipated her independence and offered romance.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“What is it about you, MacGregor, that has me telling you things I planned to keep to myself?”

“Can’t you guess?”

In the half-light, Lela imagined his mouth relaxing into a grin, crinkles forming around his gorgeous eyes, his expression turning from serious listener to playful companion. “I’m assuming it’s jet lag or some weird cultural dislocation, unless you’re admitting you practise voodoo?” She refused to accept it had anything to do with his charm, or the fact that she hadn’t been able to work out a way around it since he’d ambushed her at the airport.

“We’ve established some common interests.” He gave her a sideways look, a hint of mischief in the tilt of his head. “Then there’s the mutual attraction.”

Drawing a deep breath, she found her nostrils filling with the soft perfume of the night and the faintest hint of his comforting essence, making her exhalation shaky. “We barely know each other,” she protested.

“That’s irrelevant. Don’t tell me you didn’t take an instant dislike to that officious young woman who accosted us coming in the back entrance this afternoon, because I won’t believe you.”

“That’s different.”

“You mean it suits you to think it’s different. Mutual attraction can be ignored, acted on, or developed.”